The Time Bandit Meets The One Who Lasts
Because He Rhymes and Laughs
A morning limerick keeps my brain from circling the drain.
They tell me time is a bandit
To them, I will certainly hand it.
In knees and in fingers
The achy pain lingers
That bully has certainly planned it.
I remember getting knee replacement surgery a decade ago.
The medication and assistance I received in the hospital for a few days made me feel exalted and foremost in the eyes of humanity.
Then, I recovered, flat on my back in my house, with nearly a thousand dollars of knee flexing equipment and more medication. I realized that the medicine needed to stop when I began to attach emotionally to a split cane basket.
I gave the medication to my son and said, “I don’t need any more of this.”
During rehab, there was excruciation,
but I never thought of those pills because I was getting attention. That was enough to keep me interested in human existence at that point. After rehab, I still had no drugs because I worked and obtained recognition from interested others.
Now, in retirement, without euphoric medication or much human attention, the aches and discomforts are almost everywhere. Still, that titanium knee does not hurt as much as missing the attention I had grown to enjoy.
Listicles and other tickles
My grandfather’s brother fished. He had rods, reels, and creels. He caught trout, bass, sharks, and eels. I asked him, “Uncle, do you ever use a cane pole and a bobber.” He thoughtfully said, “I have to save that for when I’m an old dobber.”
Just like he saved cane pole fishing for his old age, I have saved retirement from public attention for my maturity.
And rather than pills that go bump in the night or jump for delight, I find engaging social experiences through Zoom gatherings, a weekly 12-step session, daily phone calls, artificial intelligence (AI) interaction, and Medicare meetings with my agent.
I enjoy writing essays on Medium.com, and responding to the articles I read. Hey, it’s all keeping me from picking up a pill, a glass, a smoke, or a toke.
My experiences challenged me to find alternatives to pills for my ills and use my brain for the pain. So far, so good, is all the distance I need to succeed.
if you’ve cheated the man in the selfie.
Sam is a retired drug counselor & keeps his Texas license current. An MA from UTA, he writes about addiction to substances, behaviors, and thistles of the soul.
